


A Cup Of Tea

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ace Chemicals, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys building a submarine, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, post episode 7, season five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: After the events of episode 7 leave the pair of them living together again, small acts of kindness sort of bring them back to familiar territory. And Ed of course is expectant of Oswald to admit his feelings so that he can... reject them? Yes of course. Probably. Maybe. Meanwhile Oswald is too terrified of the oddly tentative sort of comfort they have found with one another where all their chemistry is sacrificed in the name of stability.  But is he really comfortable enough to ignore his feelings?All of this sparked because of the simple act of a cup of tea.(Rated E for future probable content)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that I had. Not sure where it's going but it's fun to write so here we are! Not explicit yet but likely will be eventually. I mean we all know they gonna do the do someday right? XD

It all began with a cup of tea. 

More than a hundred days after the bridges blew, or maybe it was just a hair under, as it all rather ran together for Oswald, and in the aftermath of anarchy realized-- the  aftermath of quarantine... Of food shortages and territory carving... of the incident with Haven and the death of so many and the derangement of even more.. The aftermath of the world around him, the city Oswald had always known, collapsing in on itself in the ruin it had perhaps always deserved and seemed to always linger just on the brink of-- but had at last gotten it’s final push to the madness… 

It was now, on the other side of everything which had to be destroyed, Oswald stood with a chance to create something again. Both literally with his way of escape from this now doomed island, but also figuratively in that for the first time in a very long time, he felt he had an actual chance for forgiveness. A chance to move past… Well, the past, and to find comfort in another person,  making amends with his only real friend left. They already had. Sort of. Enough at least. They needed one another, and aside from a handful of staff and Oswald’s beloved dog, they were all one another had. 

Perhaps it is this fact of being so isolated which brought on a circumstance in which a single cup of tea could mean so much. 

It was late in the evening and Edward had been working all day in the room which Ed had christened his workshop. He had been in there since early that morning, forgoing breakfast which Olga served promptly, in an effort to practice welding various metal brackets together for what he deemed tension tests, so he could figure out what materials were best suited for their endeavor at escape. The room was big enough, having formally been one of the conference rooms during the days when this building had been city hall and not Oswald’s personal lair. Now it served as the space where Edward could work, pace, think, and find the solitude he had thus far been denied in this apocalyptic sort of world. A world of chaos in which Ed had been through so much and suffered at the hands of others, and now with his autonomy seemed to try and sort out some form of order. Some semblance of routine. And part of that involved having a room in which to work. Having meals brought in when he was busy, Occasionally leaving his work to come join Oswald for one of Olga’s meals. The occasional chat between the two men occurring over the progress and what new materials Ed needed Oswald to send his men after. It was comfortable. It was familiar. Weeks passed and they were finding a rhythm with one another. 

And then this evening came. A raining, dreary evening where Oswald had the rather simple thought to make Edward some tea. He knew it was a rarity in the city these days with food being so limited,but it was of the many things he kept in abundance in his personal stores and on this occasion, he even ventured into his more limited pantry to add a teaspoon of honey to the cup. It was just how Ed liked it. Very similar to the cup he had made him, what seemed ages ago the night of the Red Hood reveal. The night Ed had sat in Oswald’s robe, on Oswald’s sofa, drinking Oswald’s tea from Oswald’s cup and promised him he would do anything for him. The night he had risked himself for him. The night Oswald realized he had fallen in love with him. 

The penguin shook his head at such thought. They felt much like a lifetime ago. They had been so different back then. Their relationship had been different. What they both wanted and what they believed the other person was had been different. Now they seemed to somehow know and understand one another better than ever before and at the same time held more distance between them. Even in wanting to kill one another they had a closeness. A sense of emotion. Oswald wondered if that fire had died out from exhaustion of fighting each other or if their chemistry had simply been overtaken by the comforts of time. Either way, he felt rather grateful for the fact. After all, the feelings he once had-- and would forever deny still having-- had been rejected. The fact Ed could smile a certain way or offer the smallest of compliments to Oswald’s suit choice or the dinner menu he requested, and it could still make Oswald’s heart beat just that little bit faster was in itself beyond absurd. But unfortunately it couldn’t be helped. Only ignored. And so he ignored it. And ignoring it worked. 

It worked even when he entered Ed’s workshop with a knock to the door and a teacup and saucer in hand. 

“Come in!” Ed had called without even looking up from what he was doing. His jacket was resting on the back of his chair. His sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. He was hard at work, even more evidenced still by the way he was hunched over the table, his too long hair falling forward to partially hide his face from Oswald’s view, but still show just that glimpse of a fixed expression gazing down at blueprints with familiar determination. A look that reminded Oswald of the way he once looked at him like that, insisting he be called Riddler. Holding a gun under his chin. Telling him it could take days to get the word dragged from his lips as such a promise only served to compel Oswald’s pulse to quicken and his jaw to clench. They had been so close to one another in that moment. He could still remember the way Ed’s cologne was heavy in the dank air and the way his dark eyes seemed both endless and terrifying. Enticing and fiery. Passionate and deadly... 

Yes.

Ignoring the feelings worked. 

_ Most  _ of the time. 

“I brought you some tea.” Oswald said, clearing his throat from his spot in the doorway, closing the distance to place it on the table beside Ed’s resting hand. “I know how stressful all of this has been, and how hard you’ve been working.” 

Ed glanced up at this and his determination faltered a little as he looked up at Oswald blankly for a moment of contemplation. Unsure. As if the act of kindness was so foreign, he was trying to figure out a reason for it. And indeed, Ed was trying to think why Oswald was bringing him tea. Was it poisoned? No, that would be silly. Ed was going to get them to the mainland, why would Oswald poison him. Was Oswald trying to coerce something from him? No. That was also unlikely as Ed had nothing to give other than the work he was already doing. His gaze fell from Oswald’s face to the cup itself. Steaming and looking oh so tempting. How long had it been? Months? It must have been-- since he last had a proper cup of tea. In the midst of looting and killing that happened the night the bombs went off, Ed had overlooked the luxuries he might have once enjoyed in the name of pursuing his necessities. Tea fell to the wayside. 

A small smile perched on his lips suddenly and his still tense from focus shoulders relaxed as he sat up, changing his posture as his eyes met Oswald’s once more. 

“That sounds lovely, Oswald. Thank you.” his voice was soft. 

“You’re welcome, Edward.” He smiled back, and his tone was just as gentle. Ed drew up the cup then and took a small sip, humming with pleasure as the warm drink soothed it’s way down his throat. 

“Absolutely lovely.” he smiled wider. “And do I taste honey in this?” He asked curiously. 

“Well…” Oswald was fighting a blush under the almost affectionate gaze of his friend, and gave a small shrug. “I remembered it was a favorite of yours… And you’ve certainly earned the small perks I can offer with all of this...” he motioned to the table full of blueprints and floor scattered with tools and scrap metals. “Consider it thanks.” He added simply. 

“I’m not sure thanks are in order just yet.” He commented simply. “Thank me once I have this submarine built and we have it in the river.” He said, his face clouding again as he looked at the plans which were ambitious, even by his standards. He took another sip of his tea. 

“Ah, on the subject of which, I have a warehouse near the docks picked out for you to build in. It’s not my territory, but I think I can secure it for your materials to be delivered and as long as we keep things quiet and hidden, it should be fine.” 

“Well, perhaps I ought to be the one thanking you. Seems you’ve been hard at work as well.” Ed smiled and Oswald huffed a small laugh. “I imagine you staked out a piece of the green zone for yourself? That couldn’t have been easy…”

“Actually, it’s a piece of Miss Keane's territory.” He smirked in return. 

Ed’s eyes went wide. “How did you manage to convince her to allow you to use one of her warehouses.” 

“I didn’t.” Came the simple mischievous response and a widening grin as Edward met the smile with one of his own. 

“Impressive.” Came Ed’s eventual response when he managed to control his idiot like grin. He was impressed. Oswald was always so good at that. At planning. Lying. Manipulating situations. He was such a good survivor in situations and it was a really remarkable quality. One Ed admired. One he often found himself envying in fact. 

“Thank you.” Oswald said immediately, his eyes still fixed on Ed’s. He felt proud. Being complimented by Edward was something he found pride in. Not only because he knew Ed Nygma to be remarkably brilliant but also because he didn’t offer compliments lightly. After a moment of silence, Oswald looked away and took a step back. “I umm… I’ll let you get back to work then.”  Both men nodded and Oswald headed for the door. He was nearly there when he had a thought. A thought he couldn’t seem to resist. Of course, he knew it was just as likely Ed would tell him no. But then, what if he said yes? In the name of ignoring his feelings, he should have kept walking-- and somehow in the name of his inability to do that came a mutual inability to fight his desires. “Ed…?” His heart hammered as he turned on heel to look back at him. 

Ed who had already gone back to work, looked up from his plans with a soft smile. “Yes?” He asked, almost hopeful. 

Here it was. His moment. To ask anything it felt like and yet his offer was something so simple, one might think him silly for feeling so nervous. After everything between them, it was hard to know for sure what he wanted though. It was so hard to know what either of them wanted and after a moment of awkward silence, which Ed was too very Ed to even seem to realize was awkward, Oswald finally asked what he intended to ask. The simple request. 

“Would you... like to make dinner tonight?”  It sounded like such an odd thing, but he had once known Ed so well and it felt like something he would appreciate. And judging by the smile that crossed his face--  perhaps he still knew him. 

“Really? I… Of course, that would be really wonderful Oswald. I haven’t been able to cook in… And I… Well as you know, I really enjoy it….” Oswald clearly did know Ed because the taller man was frankly a bit touched by the offer. He had always enjoyed cooking. Even as a kid, and it had been one of the many ‘pussy’ qualities his father berated him for. Not that it changed anything. Ed still loved it. And in the anarchy around them, well food was scarce and electricity still scarcer. But then Oswald had plenty, didn’t he. Breads, meats, maybe even vegetables either frozen or canned. Ed could work with those. He must have been smiling like an idiot as he considered all of his options and what he should be planning as a menu when Oswald spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. 

“You’re welcome to anything in the pantries or stores… And umm.. I was thinking we could dine around seven as usual?” Oswald asked. 

Ed blinked at him. This felt like a date almost. It wasn’t of course. Though admittedly he had been on his toes since moving here, rather waiting for Oswald to declare his feelings for him again. Not that he would reciprocate them per say. But well.. Oswald was in love with him. Obviously. He always had been. So.. It occurred to Ed how strange it was that Oswald still hadn’t made a move. Not that Ed wanted him to make a move, but well.. Surely he should have made one by now. Perhaps this was it.” “Yes. Seven sounds perfect.” He spoke at last. Oswald just smiled and slipped out, leaving Ed wondering if the dinner tonight would be when Oswald would confess his remaining ardor for him. 

All the while unaware Oswald was silently vowing to himself to do the very VERY opposite of that.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men, two different goals-- a fair bit of frustration had by both. (:

Dinner proved oddly cathartic for them. They ate and drank and shared a remarkable sort of history between them. Toasting their futures and even moving to the piano after dessert to share a few verses of song. The whole evening ended with Ed besting Oswald at a game of chess and the two men finding a great amount of familiar comfort in their companionship. 

It had been such a long time since either found someone to just be themselves with, and even better still someone who was comfortable with that self entirely.  It was nice. No better than nice, it was contented. And contentment was hard enough to come by in Gotham under normal circumstances. It had become rather impossible in the wake of mania and anarchy around them. Yet they were able to find it in the company of one another. 

And so when the evening concluded with a smile and nod to one another, Oswald claiming a need to retire after having awoken so early-- Ed was fine with it. 

Just fine. 

Nevermind what Ed might have imagined after preparing the most succulent steak for Oswald, pairing it with a delightful wine and serving what was inarguably the best meal Oswald could have possibly had in ages, even before the bridges blew because let’s be honest, Ed was a skilled cook-- far better than whatever trash from the street Oswald might normally employ. And of course, forget the fact Ed had played one of Oswald’s favorite tunes and watched him with dark eyes full of sincerity as he did so. And let’s pay no mind to the fact that even after all of this, even after a toast to one another and the friendship, the fortune, the  _ future _ shared between them, they shared a game of chess where Ed was too polite to over take Oswald too harshly even as he really was too inebriated from the wine to be a real match for Ed-- but out of the riddler’s desire to be a good sport he didn’t point this out or any of Oswald’s mistakes, and let him carry on far longer than he deserved … Just ignore all of that. 

Everything between them was FINE. 

Not that Ed wasn’t perhaps expecting something-- well, more. A declaration of feeling might have been too much, fair enough. But a lingering look? A shared touch? Oswald clearly being the love struck beacon of compliments Ed could still remember so well from the last time they lived together. This man was meant to have been in love with him and now here they were with NOTHING. Must not have been very strong feelings if a few murder attempts and some words of hate were enough to entirely dissuade Oswald from his affection. Clearly Ed had been right all along. Oswald was a spoiled child-- incapable of love. 

Obviously. There was no other explanation. So the case was closed.

And yet, with every passing day of him working on the submarine, and Oswald being absolutely no real help, Ed couldn’t help fixating on it. The question of why Oswald seemed so intent to deny any feelings for him became a primary concern, always there no matter what he did. He began to go out of his way to be especially thoughtful with Oswald in the hopes of jostling a confession from him that way. He was exceptionally polite. Courteous. He began making dinner a several times a week, and they always shared such lovely company. Every time, Ed was convinced Oswald was going to confess. Perhaps the most damning occasion was an evening when Ed had scoured the stores of food for cocoa powder, finding just enough to make proper souffles. Oswald had practically drooled at the sight when Ed served them, and the Riddler felt certain, this was it. 

“They smell amazing, Ed.” Oswald said softly. “Absolutely delectable.” That look in his eyes said it all-- the soft blue color of them seemed to sparkle with a desire that stemmed far beyond wanting to taste the dessert. Yes. Perfect. Ed smirked and licked his lips, feeling smug suddenly. He had won him back with this and now Oswald had to admit he still loved him. In retrospect, it was a lot of assumption to make from one chocolate souffle… But in a place of chaos and anarchy where most fight for scraps of food, and haven’t had a hot meal in ages, well this gesture was as big as any, right? 

Oswald took that first bite and hummed with absolute satisfaction. 

Ed stared at him waiting. Oswald met his gaze and smiled softly, opening his mouth to speak and Ed suddenly half panicked as he considered what he was going to say in return.  Why had he wanted this? Oh it didn’t matter. He would figure it out when the moment came. That moment was now. Here it was. The candle light around them swayed gently and in the background a soft instrumental record played. 

“Edward…” 

“Yes, Oswald?” He asked with a smirk that couldn’t have been wider. 

“I was just wondering how much longer you think the submarine is going to take? I was hoping we could be gone within the next month or so.” 

Ed felt himself suddenly blinking as his brain struggled to process what was just said. He had been so expecting a confession, he hardly heard the words at first and needed a moment for them to sink in. The submarine. He was asking about the SUBMARINE?! Over chocolate dessert after a candle lit dinner with music playing in the background like some sort of cheesey movie-- he wanted to discuss the SUBMARINE???

Ed’s expression fell as did his eyes, down to his dessert which he unceremoniously stabbed with his fork. “No, I’m not sure.” Came his mumble. 

“Really? No time estimate at all?” Oswald pressed and suddenly Ed found his head snapping up to glare at him. 

“No, Oswald! I don’t have an estimate. Though perhaps I should as the only person I have to estimate for is MYSELF. I am the only one who needs to be considered as I AM THE ONLY ONE WORKING.” Suddenly his anger was there and he wasn’t even sure what it was about. He just knew it was very very present, and very very much entirely because of Oswald. 

Oswald had been shocked and then insisted he had stolen things. The whole evening devolved from there into bickering and ruined a perfectly good confession-purposed mood that the evening had carried. Ed stormed off to bed, irritated. Well, tonight wasn’t going to be the night. 

\---

Meanwhile, what he could never know was just how infuriating these weeks had been for Oswald. Not with Ed exactly, but with himself. He found himself incapable of forgetting his feelings for Ed lately. They were there. Constantly. All the time. Ed was just being so nice. It was really just impossible! And of course, Oswald knew his only reason for such kindness was their close working proximity and need to rely on one another. Not to mention, the lack of company in this city, even before the bridges blew-- Oswald suspected Ed had been around predominantly morons and missed his friendship. But why did he have to be  _ so  _ nice. 

As Ed was attempting to elicit a confession from Oswald about his feelings, Oswald was trying to do nothing more than just ignore those feelings which were so damned difficult to not just blurt out sometimes. Then this night with the souffle. It was too much really. 

Oswald had nearly stumbled into telling Ed everything. 

That he loved him still. Those feelings never went away and at times seem even stronger because through everything they had endured, even when they hated one another, Oswald knew he loved him. He wanted to tearfully express his most heart felt, romantic, sentimental feelings and pour out his genuine desires for the man who was his friend, then his enemy, and now his ally. Instead, he asked about the sub, and even if it was frustrating to be accused of not helping when he had contributed his part in all the theft needed for this plan of theirs-- he was honestly relieved. At least he didn’t have to worry about confessing. 

For tonight at least. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying this still! As erratic as I know my posting schedule can be. Thank you to everyone who sticks with me. 
> 
> Comments and kudos please. As always. I beg for the sustenance I need. XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Restless nights for both boys. 
> 
> Things are considered.
> 
> Things are denied.

_ “I love you.”  _

_ It had fallen out of his mouth before he could contain it. The words just tumbling into the air as if they were spilling from him-- as if Oswald had been cracked open at last and there they were. He hated it. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he considered his options now. Could he run? Hide? Change the subject and pretend he hadn’t said it? It had been there. For weeks now. Months. Years actually. Since forever it felt like, the words sat in his chest and festered and fought and were trampled over by his vitriolic hatefulness, smothered by his forced indifference. Formed and and functioned to be non existent even as they were so obviously and completely still there. Oswald glanced at him finally, after a long moment of silence. Only for his eyes to catch Ed being so very stunned. What? Like he didn’t know.  _

_ Of course he knew.  _

_ He had known for nearly as long as Oswald had known.  _

_ The penguin had been rather hopeless at keeping it his secret. He had been so obvious, of course Ed found out. Especially after all that ugliness with Isabell-- Isabell-UH, rather. Yes. Ed had always known and so it felt so strange to stand here in front of the man who knew Oswald inside and out, and pretend Ed shouldn’t know this as well already. That this was news. That this stood to be some kind of surprise.  _

_ He was a bastard for looking that way. Oswald decided it then and there, and he hated him for it. For the audacity he had to seem shocked by the crime lord’s confession. How dare he really.  The way his mouth hung, slightly parted. His eyes full of that expression that haunted him. That face he had made all that time ago.  _

_ Suddenly the memories flood him. He remembers. He doesn’t want to. But he’s there. He’s sitting in his chair listening to Ed say he wants to leave. To resign. All over some hussy who never even knew the real him… Oswald can’t allow it. He can’t let him leave. He can’t lose him. Oswald is standing, insisting. Begging almost. Oswald has never loved anyone before and it’s eating him alive and Ed doesn’t have to love him back but he can’t leave. He just can’t.  _

_ “We’re friends aren’t we Oswald?” He asks it and Oswald breathlessly rushes to reassure him. Of course they are. Of course. Best friends, the thought rests in his mind. He had never had a best friend before. Ed was everything to him.  Ed who was now talking about being more than friends. About wanting more and Oswald’s heart stops in his chest. If Ed is everything to him then this is all he has ever wanted. Edward loves him back. He had thought-- no but here he is and he’s saying it.  _

_ Oswald rambles as he interupts. My, they are a hopeless pair aren’t they. All this time wasted and even now. Oswald finds himself wondering as he makes his declaration, as his hands hold Ed’s arms and he marvels at how the very touch makes his heart race-- he wonders how long Ed has known? What fools they’ve been. Oh he’s so happy. So blissfully, unbearably happy.  _

_ “One cannot deny love.”  _

_ Ed’s face. His gasp. His… flinch. The disgust in his eyes as he lifts his hands-- as if what? As if he finds Oswald’s touch so repulsive. So unwanted. Oswald releases his hands and moves back. He had misunderstood. Oh god, but he had been so sure. So relieved. He was planning their first date and wondering what it might be like to have their first kiss. Oswald was months into their relationship, imagining the bed they would share in his room of the mansion, wondering what it might be like to wake up in Edward’s arms-- better yet to wrap himself in Edward’s too big shirt and wander downstairs where the other man was making him breakfast. Heart shaped pancakes. It was sickeningly sweet. But it was Ed. Who he was and how he was when in love, and finally he was going to be that person with Oswald. They were going to be so happy.  _

_ Tears filled his eyes when Ed rejected him and rushed off and now he stands in front of him again, back to himself and face to face with a man looking at him with all the same disgust as before. He doesn’t want him. He doesn’t love him. Oswald is alone in this as he has always been, as he will always be. Trapped inside loving a man who will never feel it back. And it eats away at him every day-- it always will. For a man who could demand of this city anything and take what he wanted, Oswald will never be satisfied.  _

_ Because he will never have Ed.  _

When Oswald awakens, he’s covered in sweat. Bathed in a dark sensation of dread as his bedsheet is tangled around him and tears prick his eyes. He regrets it all in this moment. Their reunion. Their forgiveness. Every step forward they have taken. He regrets every second of it because it’s all wrong. It brought back so many feelings that he shouldn’t have. That he doesn’t want to have. Frustrated with himself and everything, he rolls over to his side and clutches close a pillow as he allows his pain and misery to overcome him.  

Meanwhile, Ed is feeling his own kind of frustration. Born instead of from nightmares, from a profound inability to find any sleep at all. He is wide awake. It’s two am. Or it was. Last he looked. Which could have been 30 seconds ago or 30 hours. Who knows. He’s just been staring at the ceiling, likewise remembering days long past. Remembering how he rejected Oswald, sure. But more important than that or any of the other things which he might have done, he replays in his mind the things Oswald did. The way he had looked that day… When Ed had set him up. 

Those pale sea green eyes so full of hope. Of promise. 

Of love. 

Had anyone ever loved Ed like that? Had Lee, or Kristen, or even Isabella… Had Edward ever even loved either of them in that way? Had anyone ever? There was just something about Oswald. About the way he felt things, the way he burned so white hot like an embodied flame. He was alive with his passions. His desires. His loves. It drove him and it consumed him and it was a trait Edward often scoffed at, but deep down… Deep down Ed wished he knew how to feel like that. To feel so deeply. So profoundly. He marveled at it in secret while scoffing in the open and in the moments in between, he allowed himself such moments as this. When he remembered that depth of feeling and want and all consuming desire to be directed at him. When he had been what Oswald was chasing. 

Unlike his empire, his kingdom, his city-- Oswald never got Ed though. 

Edward used to delight in the idea. Much in the same secrecy he envied Oswald’s range of emotion, he enjoyed the pleasure of considering that he was that unattainable thing which Oswald would always chase. Would always want. The man who held the city in his hand and Edward Nygma was a dream to him. He liked being a dream. 

Oh who was Ed kidding. 

He LOVED being a dream. 

Every ounce of his ego poured into knowing that Oswald longed for him. He ensured to always look his best when he would see him. He made an effort to never miss the chance to get close to him. That little flicker in Oswald’s eyes of distraction when they shared proximity-- it was Ed’s victory. His triumph was to be wanted. 

Apparently he wasn’t anymore though.

So fine then. 

That was FINE. 

Ed was FINE. 

He would just move forward. He had lots of other things to fulfill his time. It didn’t matter if Oswald didn’t love him anymore. That was fine. Look at Lee Thompkins. She stopped loving him-- if she ever did, which he still found a source of internal debate between his ego and his logic-- but even if she did, and she had clearly stopped now and was carrying on with Jim Gordon… Well, Ed didn’t care. He never spared her much thought in fact. She was someone who was important to him and who wasn’t anymore. Of course, he had been right. She betrayed him first. She had stabbed him first. He knew she likely lied about it to most people, but it should go on record, she stabbed him FIRST. But regardless, she ended up with Jim and that was fine. He didn’t care. Jim Gordon was a boy scout in a bullet proof vest and the pair was welcome to one another. 

Mazel tov to them. 

Ed didn’t care. 

So then why was this consuming him? Why was Oswald’s waning interest absolutely infuriating? WHY? It didn’t make sense. He had at least had a relationship with Lee. He and Oswald were enemies at best prior to this most recent development of friendship. Ed struggled with looking for a reason and even more over, he struggled with wanting to find one. All of this led to the man being kept awake, tossing and turning most nights, with this night being no exception. His mind fixated on Oswald. Replaying every moment they had ever EVER shared together from the beginning. He beat himself up for his desperation in the beginning, and for how pathetic he was--  thank god they had come this far. They were equals now. Partners. Ironically, it only took wrecking everything they had to get to the thing Ed had suggested all that time ago just to hurt him. 

How lucky for Ed they could get here, right? 

Before he would let himself go over his feelings about their partnership, Ed decided to give up on sleeping and busy himself with something else. First he tried working on the submarine. It wasn’t working. He couldn’t focus. Okay then, he could read. Reading always worked. Except when it didn’t. Like now. This was ridiculous. Maybe a drink would help. He wasn’t even a big drinker, but maybe just a sip of something strong would settle his steadily climbing nerves. He was heading downstairs to where Oswald kept the bar, when he passed Oswald’s door and stopped. 

In his tracks. 

He doubled back a few steps and stood flush in front of the heavy oak barrier, staring at it. He could go in and demand answers from the inhabitant. He could swing the door wide and barge in with his most aggressive list of grievances about the many ways Edward Nygma had been kind to him-- Edward Nygma who wasn’t ever kind to anyone anymore-- and insist Oswald had NO right whatsoever to no longer love him. Ed was doing everything right and Oswald, who had been so set in his affection before, had to still have those feelings. What’s more, wasn’t it rather rude not to even mention them? All of this friendliness. All of this happiness. Contentment settling between them like a salve over burns they never thought would heal. Oswald should be hopelessly in love with him. Fawning over him. Confessing twice a day at least to feelings which Edward simply forbid him not to feel anymore. 

Of course it was the middle of the night.

And Oswald was asleep. 

And Edward wasn’t sure he still had those feelings. 

And Edward was far, FAR from being ready to admit to Oswald or even entirely to himself that it bothered him so much that Oswald might not. 

So with a heavy sigh a hand resting on Oswald’s door, Ed turned to head for that drink. Then back to bed for more restless tossing and turning as he overanalyzed every word they had ever spoken to one another ever. Ed would be exhausted in the morning, which considering his work to do was less than ideal. Especially as unaware though they might be-- he and Oswald were going to have company soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad to get this posted! In the next chapter, we should see the Ventriloquist showing up to stir things up for the boys. Excited for that. ^.^

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Your support means everything and so thanks a million for reading and for kudos and comments in advance! They sustain me XD


End file.
